


Ring

by rispacooper



Category: The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-24
Updated: 2011-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 00:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/rispacooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy smut, with a nipple ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coffeebuddha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebuddha/gifts), [JaneDavitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDavitt/gifts).



> This isn’t even close to anything resembling historically accurate. Your point? Actually it came from a throw off line during _Rizzoli & Isles_ and the resulting, somewhat drunken discussion [here](http://rispacooper.livejournal.com/355182.html). This is for everyone who got all nerd excited with me, but especially for janedavitt for totally having fun with the imagery for me and for coffeebuddha for looking for all the nipple pics.

The reasons for the first one did not matter. Esca had noticed the small patch of scar tissue weeks ago, his mouth and hands on Marcus with the eagerness that never seemed to leave him, even after months of having him.

He could tell himself it was that Marcus was beautiful, for he was, or that it was that he enjoyed the pink flushes of shame and want that colored Marcus’s skin because Marcus could not seem to control himself as he wished to once Esca had touched him, but those were not the whole reason. Esca’s need came from somewhere inside him, a blazing fire in his belly that always burned and raged hotter when Marcus looked at him.

It sparked when Marcus smiled and flared when others looked at him with hunger and the pain of that was nothing to the agony in his middle when Marcus was far from him. And when he had first noticed the scar, with his eyes and then with the pads of his fingers, the fire roared and felled him, taking Marcus with it. Marcus had thrown his head back and groaned as though wounded. His nipple had firmed in Esca’s fingers, dark with that spot of paler tissue bright and curious.

His thumb on that spot made Marcus’s eyes open wide, his mouth bitten fruit, soft and wet and red, the patch of thick tissue hotter than the rest of him, though Marcus had been shining with sweat and trembling with desire. Esca had flicked that skin, the tip of that swollen nipple, again, using the edge of his nail because there were things Marcus’s beauty and this burn drove him to do, and because when he did Marcus never stopped him.

He hadn’t then, only held back a word with a loud swallow and met Esca’s gaze as Esca had lowered his head. Esca had used his teeth also, made his Marcus hard, made him spill by touching one tiny patch of scarred skin.

Marcus had explained before Esca could demand, after, had turned his head with embarrassment at the memory of being young and even more foolishly trusting than he was now, and had told of his fellow soldiers convincing him a legend was true and that centurions wore a ring in their nipples as a sign of strength, that it wasn’t the appearance of their armor, that a man really would link a chain to these rings to bear the weight of a cloak.

A fine joke to play on one such as Marcus, who believed in things and would put such faith as something as simple as a ring. Esca had wished those long-departed soldiers dead for the shame stinging Marcus’s face—shame he had not brought into existence and which should never again stain Marcus. But instead his mouth had found the burning flesh one more time and he had had laved it with his tongue and listened to Marcus bite back whimpers and confess how it had felt, the pain and pleasure, how even a small amount of weight on the ring had left him aroused. The admission had dragged from him in between short, desperate breaths, as if Marcus knew something of Esca’s eagerness.

His Centurion, weak at one small ring, at Esca’s mouth. He had not wished to stop touching that patch of skin, would not have if Marcus had not had to travel to visit his uncle and buy a new horse and Esca had not had to stay behind to watch over their home. But that did not matter either. The reasons for the second one were what mattered.

Marcus had returned after far too long, weary but smiling, a strange hesitancy in his manner that had made Esca hold back as the horses had been seen to and news related. The fires in him not liked that, even as he had worried that Marcus’s Roman feelings had won him back.

Like a Roman, Marcus had bathed, shaved, as Esca had taken care of the animals and wondered about food, but it had been no Roman light in his eyes when Marcus had refused the offer of dinner and then gone in to sit down upon their bed.

Esca had needed no other prompting. In moments Marcus’s mouth had been under his and Marcus had been on his back, his large hands slow under Esca’s clothes, careful and uncertain. Esca had still had no thoughts about more of Marcus’s shyness until he had worked Marcus’s tunic out from under him and up over his head and he had seen what Marcus had done.

What he had done, his Marcus, what both shamed and excited him and left him there to be taken at Esca’s will. A heavy ring of silver hung from him, solid and real from the nipple already peaked and hot, as hot as fire.

A breath on it had Marcus shifting beneath him. A glancing touch made him hiss. A slow, awed tug on the ring with two fingers shut Marcus’s eyes and drew a strangled noise from the strong column of his throat.

Esca’s mouth was wet as he gave in and sucked on it, his fingers bruising Marcus with the force of his own pleasure, every gasp his to own and cherish. Marcus thrust up beneath him, bucking when Esca used his tongue to prod and tease and pull on that stinging flesh, his moans choked but high and explaining much, if not all.

That all was in the sound he made when Esca got silver between his teeth and Marcus pushed up from the bed to follow him, his eyes round and his voice raw as he repeated Esca’s name. Only Esca, and then Esca wished to hurt him and love him and did both, sucking and bruising as the fire took them both. He released the ring, slick with his spittle, and pulled it between his fingers once again as he let Marcus push into him, as he rode Marcus, firm muscle and heat and a silver ring in his hand to ensure Marcus would follow, would stay.

After, when Marcus was pink but too sated to feel shame, he murmured soft words and let Marcus’s big hands hold tight to him as his own toyed with the present Marcus had given him. A gift Marcus would dare offer to no others, and for once, at the thought, Esca’s fire burned warm and did not hurt.

 

The End


End file.
